Lazuline Petals
by Localism
Summary: Stan finds out just how hard high school can really be. StanxWendy.
1. Playground Playdate

I hit the ground with a hard thud.

I looked up at the mossy overcast, feeling the air painfully escape my lungs as my hat flopped back behind my head onto the hard asphalt. Days like today, I wanted to disappear. Yeah, I know, high school is hard on everyone. I think that's just something people say to even out the playing field between me, and the guys standing over me laughing. Clearly, high school is harder on me than it is on them today.

I sat up enough to rest on my elbows, realizing I was now dripping wet. Lifting my sleeve up and letting out a disgruntled sigh as the water flowed freely from it, I turned my attention back to the boys. Strewing my backpack about, scattering my school supplies and belongings all over the ground, they laughed. A piece of paper floated from the sky and gracefully landed beside me.

"Stan Marsh

First Period

April third, 2010

Theory of Evolution Essay"

Fuck. I was supposed to turn that in today, in fifteen minutes. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. I'm not the greatest student, but I pass at a B average and this is probably going to take my biology grade down to a C. Shit. The last thing I want is another lecture from my dad, especially on the theory of evolution, like he knows anything about it.

I put on my blankest, most annoyed face and looked up at my regular schoolyard bully. Clyde fucking Donovan. You know, even as a fifteen-year-old, I seriously can't even understand why people are assholes. Like really, I've never felt the urge to randomly assault someone and wreck their life. I don't even recall doing anything to the guy, but come eighth grade, he fucking hated me. I don't mean kind of disliked me, or even moderately disliked me, I mean full-out, unrelenting hatred from day one of eighth grade.

After they tossed my backpack into a tree, Craig flipped me the bird and the group of them, including Clyde, laughed and walked toward the school. I just sighed and rolled my eyes, trying to wring the water out of my hoodie. Suddenly I was being pulled off the ground by the collar of my shirt.

"Hey, hey, hey, hey, hey!" I said hurriedly, confused and a little annoyed.

As my vision normalized, I came face to face with a familiar smile.

"Kenny, fuck off." I said as he set me back on my feet, and shook his hands off of my shirt.

"Ah, I was just trying to help you little nerd." Kenny said, shrugging off my annoyance and folding his arms behind his head.

I rolled my eyes and we both looked up at my backpack dangling in the tree.

At about 6'3", Kenny towered over me. He became less accustomed to his orange jumpsuit the older he got, and started wearing a mesh of reds and blacks and whites. He always looked like some deranged fucking card deck to me. Always a band-t, always some beat-up old black flats, always that mischievous grin that says he's up to no good. He wore his hair long and sort of spiked, and a stupid black dog collar with a bone pendant. I seriously didn't understand what he was going for with that.

Then again, I'm so average any kind of new trend or outlandish fashion statement anyone tried to make just seemed like a cry for attention. Like, "oooh, I'm different and edgy". But it's not just that about Kenny. He smokes, drinks, probably even smokes the J, for all I know. He's also mean and invasive, and a complete asshole most of the time. I would call him a bully, but the way he sees it, only he can bully me, and he only halfheartedly bullies me. He was kind of my bully and my protector. Sometimes I feel like he's just trying to give me shit so I'll act more like him. Tougher.

"Yeah, I can only expect that kind of attitude from the school prude." He scoffed, giving me a shove and walking toward the tree to grab my backpack.

I rolled my eyes and huffed as he swatted it down and tossed it to me. I'm still soaked, my hair is a mess, and now my backpack is scuffed up and filthy. Kenny turned me around and put an arm over my shoulders, walking me into the school. His poor ass always kind of smelled like dirt.

When we got into the hall, I was still fixing my book bag, also simultaneously trying to fix my hair, and also trying to look up and make sure Kenny wasn't walking me into anything. I glanced up a couple times, but I got wind of a scent I could never mistake, one that made me stop in my tracks and close my eyes and for a moment, no one else could exist. No one but her, and the hint of lavender and peach. Wendy Testaburger.

I woke with a slam into someone's locker door.  
"Sorry dude, you should probably open your eyes." Kenny said, "You can't see Wendy with them closed anyway-"

I elbowed him, hard. Just thinking shut the fuck up Kenny, she's three feet to our right. She hasn't noticed me, she hardly ever does. Even when I hadn't looked at her, I could pinpoint exactly where she was just by the smell of her perfume. I opened my locker, and stood still next to the door, as if she could hear any and every move I made. I sighed to myself, and opened my eyes to look at her.

There she was. A lilac-colored dress with a matching knitted cap. Brown, calf-high winter boots and cream-colored socks that went just past them. What really gets me though, every time I look at her, is the little charm bracelet she wears every day. Normal people probably don't feel anything when they see other people's jewelry, hell, I usually could care less. But there's one charm on that bracelet, among various shapes and figures, was a tiny seahorse pendant. I had slipped it into her locker back in sixth grade, and watched as she smiled when she found it. She doesn't realize it was from me, and she has no idea just how much it means to me that she wears it every day, but when I see her wear it, I feel like I'm with her all the time.

Even if she doesn't even care.

She doesn't care about me. We haven't talked since we were ten, and even then, all we did was fight. She started feeling too good to acknowledge my existence sometime during fifth grade, and since then, I've had to appreciate her in silence. From the back of my locker door, and only long enough so that she won't notice.

I averted my eyes and started changing books for my next class in silence. I could feel the corners of my mouth bending downward, as a familiar sting in my nose arose. I tried to shake it off, and succeeded. A hard sigh, and the water forming in my eyes and made it's way back into my tear ducts. I gave her one last glace, shut my locker, and walked in the opposite direction of her, toward my first hour class.

I had just about given up on my hair and wet clothes, but made a quick move toward the bathroom, as it was on my way to first hour. Since there was only a few minutes until the bell rang, I was the only one in there, so I let out a sigh and dropped my semi-fixed book bag onto the stone floor. I pulled my hands over my face and rubbed my eyes, shaking my head. This is every morning.

I stopped in front of a sink and looked up at myself in the mirror. I'm so ordinary. I'm smaller than most of the guys my age, only about 5'2", even the girls towered over me, some of them. Wendy though, she was about an inch shorter. Perfect. My hair was kind of grown in, just past my ears, and it had a natural flip. Stony-gray, sleepless eyes. The thing is, I'm not bad looking. I'm just weird, and kind of quiet, and I'm smart. I'm not popular. Wendy is popular. The only thing that stopped me from being popular, the thing that stopped people from liking me, was my utter inability to care, or act like I care, about the dumb things anyone had to say. See, when someone comes up to Wendy and tells her about their day, she is actually genuinely excited. Me? I don't care. Everyone can kind of feel like I don't want them around. But it's not that I don't. I just don't want the people that are around me, around. I want company I can relate to, people who care about the things I care about, people who really get it. Even when I debate with other kids who act like they're smart, their point of view is something I've already looked at. I feel like I'm on step five, and everyone else in on step two, intellectually. I wish it wasn't true, and most of the time I don't mention it, I just stop arguing and let them go on with their day. It gets kind of lonely.

Ugh.

I've been around the same kids all my life, and even though they've grown, I know them inside and out. They're so predictable, you know? I take a look at them, and I'm perceptive, so I can tell when they're all about just by the way they talk. The tokers who just want to forget about life, to the goths who care too much about the dark side, to the preps, who don't know what a bad life is like. I'm not any of those, so where do I fit in? Where do I belong..? In this town, everything gets around, and for once, I just wanted to talk to someone who didn't have it all out of the table. Someone with some secrets. Someone like me.

I saw my reflection jump as the bell rang. I'm late again.


	2. Inside a Spinning Wheel

I can remember being eight, and she kissed me for the first time.

It was at Starke's pond, in the dead of winter, and she was cold. I didn't know much about girls, and I didn't know a thing about romance. Frankly, I barely knew what made girls and boys different at the time, so when I saw her blushing.. I thought she just had a fever. I took her hands in mine, like my mother would when I was cold, and I took a breath of air from my lungs to warm them. At first, she seemed kind of confused, but then she smiled, and I could see her staring at me out of the corner of my eye. I didn't know what she meant when she said I was cute, and I didn't know what she was going to do when she leaned forward and pressed her lips to mine, all I knew then was that there was something special about her.

Laying in bed this late at night was always really calming. My house was normally loud and hectic, but at night, it felt like I might have a normal family. It gave me some time to reflect on my day, a way to think about some of the things I said, and then felt really awkward, so I could learn from it. I swear, sometimes I think my brain is on autopilot, but I'm jerked back to reality at the first uncomfortable glance. I have a habit of saying things other people don't get the first time around. My humor is kind of sarcastic, and people don't always see what I'm getting at unless I explain it. By that point, it's not even funny, and they walk away thinking I'm a freak or something. I wish I could feel a human connection to others, but I feel like an alien.

At any rate, thinking about it somehow made me relax. I was abnormally comfortable with how strange I am. I mean, I had a couple friends. I was still friends with Kyle, although he was part of the in-crowd. He wasn't a jock, and he wasn't into drugs or anything like that.. He was just textbook handsome. As he got older, his hair became less frizzy. Might be natural, he might use chemicals, I'm not really sure. He had a thin build, feminine facial features, and he was always happy and relaxed. He was the least cynical person I'd ever met, and although he maintained some of his innocence, he was by no means naive. I appreciated that about him. Things got a little awkward between us after he started dating Bebe this year, but they've been together a couple months now and it kind of feels normal. Bebe and Wendy were so close, I felt weird hanging around with her and Kyle together. I guess what I was most afraid of was hearing about Wendy dating other guys, or just regular gossip the Bebe had to talk about that might involve Wendy.

 _Tick, tick.. Tick._

I jumped a bit as I heard the tapping, at first unsure of where it was coming from, then turning to my window. I sighed, a little in annoyance, because there's only one person who throws pebbles at my window. I walked over and looked out to see Kenny, but it was weird, because he looked like he was trying to look good. He waved up at me, and then beckoned me hurriedly.

Throwing on some pants and a t-shirt, I rushed out of my room and down the stairs. I'm not sure why I was rushing, if t was Kenny, it wasn't important. I guess I just don't like keeping anyone waiting. I quietly made my way downstairs and out the front door to meet him in my socks.

"Dude, put on your shoes, we're going to a party." He said, grabbing me by the shoulders.

I shook him off, "Like hell I am, its a school night you jackass."

He huffed and threw his head and hands up at the sky to mock me a bit, "You're such a prude man, you don't have any fun."

I pulled my hands over my face in frustration, "You need new friends, you know I don't party."

I started to walk my way back to my house, shaking my head at the waste of my time. You know, he's known me for years and sometimes he doesn't know a thing about how I work.

"It's at Wendy's house." He sang slowly and tauntingly.

I stopped in my tracks and felt a wave of excitement and slight panic role over my body. Okay, maybe he knows exactly how to speak my language. Now I was actually having an internal battle with myself about whether I should go or not. Fuck. I kind of want to go to see her, just to look at her, and I kind of want to go to make sure nothing happens to her. While she was a good girl in most ways, I have heard once or twice before that these parties lead to promiscuous behavior and general mistakes.

"I wonder if she got all dolled up for it." He playfully pondered out loud to me, "Her parents are out of town and anyone is invited. It's a shame you don't party.

"Shut the fuck up, Kenny, I'm getting my shoes." I groaned in defeat.

* * *

We got out of his beat up Cavalier about two blocks from her house, there were too many cars to park close, and I could hear some music even from where I stood. While South Park was small and seemingly family oriented, sometimes parents and authorities could be rather neglectful. We have literally one police officer, so unless it was an emergency, he didn't go anywhere. That leaves the racket at Wendy's home to go relatively unregulated.

The closer we got, the bigger and more towering her house seemed to get. I forgot to mention, Wendy? Well, she's kind of rich, and her house is kind of huge. I don't know how many people can even fit in her living room, maybe fifty or sixty, all I knew was that the place looked packed. While the South Park school district didn't actually have many kids, we had a high school with at least a thousand kids from surrounding small towns, and I felt like the majority were currently rampaging around Wendy's property as we were walking up. I started to feel really nervous and kind of sick. I wonder if she'd even see me tonight, there's so many people, no one will probably notice me.

People started greeting Kenny on our way into her house, the door wide open, it was like he knew everyone he passed. I walked in and the place was like a jungle. Everyone was dancing, some were drinking, couples were making out, people were laughing. I swear I nearly got a migraine just from walking into the place. I looked around and as I turned to my right, there were Bebe and Kyle making out. He had his normal tan beanie on, and his red curls were unmistakable.

"Stan! Dude, what are you doing here?" He asked me, pulling his face away from Bebe's.

"Oh I was just-"

I heard a laugh and a playful, drunken yell come from across the room.

I looked over to see Wendy get up on her kitchen counter and start dancing. I grimaced and blushed a bit at her obvious intoxication and shrunk back a bit, not wanting her to see me. Everyone around her started cheering and singing along with her to "Style" by Taylor Swift.

"Hey man, don't worry about her too much," Kyle said, grabbing my shoulder, "She's never too crazy."

What the hell did he mean? She's practically stripping on her counter top and she's not crazy? I was having trouble understanding her actions, because at school she was kind of a goody-two-shoes, aside from the fleeting rumors about her out of school behavior.

"Midnight!" She sang, "You come and pick me up, no headlights!"

I blushed and gritted my teeth together, covering my eyes and letting out a discontented groan, "Kyle, I can't even watch."

I turned back to see that he and Bebe had already gone back to sucking face, so I sighed and walked forward to explore what else was going on, while also still keeping an eye on Wendy.

"Drink this, dude." Kenny came by and shoved a red solo cup in my face.

I cocked an eyebrow, turned my chin down and looked at him with an obviously unsettled look.

"No dude, it's just punch, I swear." He held his free and up and shook his head, he then held up his own cup, "This though, this is going to fuck me up."

He downed his own glass in pretty much one go and made a face, then yelled an excited cheer.

"Take the punch, dude. There's a chick over there I want to lay." He said, shoving the cup at me, so I grabbed it.

He walked away into the crowd and I turned back toward Wendy, who was now hiking her skirt and continuing to sing. My face turning red in frustration with how she was acting, I looked down at the cup. I took a mouthful of it, and I could taste that it wasn't just punch. I looked up at her again, rolled my eyes, and made my decision.

Fuck it, I'm having a good time.

From that point forward, I was taking every cup that came my way and just drank whatever contents were in them. I came across one cup that I recall tasting entirely like gasoline and having a rough burn, and at that point, things started to get kind of weird. People all became one big blur, and I started to stumble a bit. At that point, I knew I had altered my perception more than intended, but I still had enough about me to look toward Wendy again. This time, Craig had hopped up on the counter with her, and I could see his hand on her waist. I could hear what I vaguely recognized as the song, "Talking Body", but the way I heard it seemed kind of wrong. I only heard every other word. It felt like the whole crowd of people were laughing at me, they all knew that was my girl, and there she was grinding on Craig Tucker.

I don't know where I worked up the audacity, but I started walking toward the counter she was dancing on and I looked up at her. In the whole crowd of people, I was the only one not dancing. I was the only one not smiling. I watched her dance for one minute, two minutes, ten minutes, but then she looked down at me and her smile faded a bit. She got kind of a surprised look in her eye, while maintaining a semi-calm look on her face. Her dancing with Craig had slowed, and she put a hand on the buttons of her shirt as if to conceal herself a little. She noticed me, and she almost looked.. Guilty.

I immediately felt sick when I fell into her gaze, but not a throw-up kind of sick. An "I'm about to cry" kind of sick. While normally I could control that feeling, right now, I was in no condition. I turned away from her and started walking in a direction that I wasn't even sure of, picked up a full cup off the counter, and downed all of it as I felt a tear roll down my face. I drank for the first time that night, more than I ever imagined. Every cup I came across, I downed what was in it, taking no regard to who might have had it beforehand. Eventually, everything started seeming less and less real, until I blacked out entirely.

* * *

I woke up with my face on something hard. I could tell a source of light was nearby, even through my eyelids, and I opened my eyes cautiously. There was a checkered white and black marbled floor beneath my face, and I could see what looked like a bathtub in front of me.

 _What the fuck._

I tried to recall the night before, but after gazing up at Wendy and seeing that.. Look.. On her face, I can't remember anything at all. I sat up in alarm at my situation and looked around, my head spinning. I'm still at her house, Jesus fucking Christ. I stood up and immediately fell head first into the foreign bath tub, and heard a loud yell, that resulted in me yelling out of fear, but I fell into some kind of tube, so I had no idea what was going on. All I knew was that I fell over on some male, judging by his voice, and we were both flailing around trying to figure out what the hell was going on. I fell backward onto the floor and flipped my hands around my face to remove whatever was blocking my vision. Lamp shade..?

"Stan, what the fuck, you fucking scared me." A voice said.

I shook myself out of my dizzy daze and saw a panting, raving Kenny.

"Kenny, what the fuck is going on?" I asked in a panic and gestured to the bathroom.

He took a sigh, still catching his bearings, "Well, you retarded Casanova, I had to lock you in here last night with me because you were fucking crazy."

 ** _I walked up to Wendy, pulled her from the counter and caught her, pulling her shirt back on and standing her upright._**

 ** _"What the hell do you think you're doing, Stan?" She yelled, pulling away from me._**

Sat back against the cabinet and put my head in my hands, suddenly feeling my heart sink. Oh no. No. No. No.

 ** _I pulled her back to me and I looked her in the eyes._**

 ** _"Wendy, it hurts me to see you acting , like this." I said._**

No, no, no, oh god, no.

 ** _She stopped and stared me in the eyes, everyone around us was staring, and she started to look around, embarrassed.  
"Stan, I," She started to look flustered and confused, "Who do you think you are?"_**

 ** _"I think I'm someone who fucking cares about you. Wendy, I love you." I yelled at her, earning a gasp from her._**

"Oh my god." I gasped and started sobbing, "Oh my fucking God, oh my God, oh my God."

"Woah dude, don't freak, don't freak, she's right next door." He said in a hush, putting his hands up and shaking them at me, as if it would calm me.

I hit my head back a few times on her cabinet and groaned to myself. First words I say to her since we were ten, and that's what had to come out. Not "hey", not "how are you?" No, I had to bring out the big three letter phrase and basically tell her she's acting like a slut in front of all of those people. She's going to hate me.

"Okay, come on, we need to get out of here before she sees you, man. Maybe she won't remember anything." Kenny said, climbing out of the bathtub and offering me a hand.


	3. Dark Spaces, Familiar Faces

There was a day in April when I was nine that I can remember, when I couldn't jump off the swing. The snow never melts completely in South Park, but sometimes it's warm enough to rain. There was a drizzle that day, and I kept flinching as the swing lunged forward and the mist was in my eyes. I mean, I was pretty tiny for my age, even then. I don't know how they expected me to do it, or why, or what it would do for them. Looking down from the swing, as a swung as high as I could, I could see almost the entire fourth grade class watching me as Clyde taunted me. He wanted me to jump. I just kept swinging, building more momentum, and making it even more difficult for myself. I looked down again and met eyes with Wendy, her eyes anticipating some magnificent performance.. She always thought I could do anything.

I tried to look tough, back then everyone kind of thought I was, but I was just a scared little kid, afraid of getting a scraped knee. Still, I closed my eyes, and I flew from my seat on the swing, only opening my eyes as I felt my weight dropping to the ground. With a thud, I had jumped past the wood chips of the playground, and hit the blacktop. I felt immediate pain on my ankle, and rolled off of it with a yelp, feeling a sting resonate from my nose to my eyes. I only remember looking up and seeing them all through my tears, Wendy was the only one not laughing. She just stood there and looked at me with a disappointed look on her face, then turned her back on me and walked through the crowd, back into the school. Their warped laughs got louder, deeper, more demonic.

 _The bell rang._

I shot forward in my bed with a short yell, sweat dripping from my nose. I sighed and looked down, seeing a stream of red rolling onto my chest. _Not sweat. Blood._ I cupped my face and reached for something, anything to stop the blood from getting on anything else. Swatting a black shirt from my laundry basket, I held it to my nose and let out a frustrated sigh. I looked at the clock, just as it ticked from 6:59 to 7:00, and it started blaring music. I jumped a little and hit it so it would stop, then laid back on my bed with a sigh. First day back to school since the party.

I had been playing scenarios in my head all weekend, but I knew nothing would prepare me for today. Especially since I don't really remember everything I did. I wasn't even completely sure what would be worse, a negative response, or being ignored by everyone entirely. I lifted the shirt from my face to make sure the bleeding had stopped, then ran my hands over my face and sat up. Well, guess there's no more stalling.

I walked up the hill to the high school, my feet hitting the wet blacktop. My anxieties were rising as I realized there was no one outside like there usually is. This is suspicious. My high school is like any other obnoxious high school; people were usually all over the place. Today though, the outside of the school was as gloomy as the constant overcast. I took into account that it was a little chilly outside today, as the weather is rather turbulent in South Park year round, trying to make myself feel less awkward walking up to a lifeless school. Spotting a kid my age walking into the side door, and realizing the student parking lot was full, I took a sigh of relief.

I walked into the hall and everyone was there, just as usual. More than normal, but that was obviously going to happen, since normally half the school was outside in the morning. People were carrying on like normal, but the noise was giving me a headache. I spotted Kenny at his locker, two down from mine, and walked over.  
"Oh, hey man." He said normally, then followed with a grin, "Any confessions for me this morning?"

I rolled me eyes, "Why is everyone inside today?"

"Oh, they're having us chill in the cafeteria today, I guess they decided it was too cold to be outside. We're supposed to get like a foot of snow." He replied, shrugging and kicking papers back into his locker so he could close it.

Looking down at the mess, I made a slightly disgusted face. Even after his valiant effort to push the papers and trash back into his locker, a few wrappers and a receipt still littered the floor.

"You should really clean your locker, Ken." I said, trying to sound a little serious.

"Yeah, and you should probably prepare yourself, Wendy totally remembers what happened Friday, and pretty much everyone has been talking about it." He replied to me, trying to be witty.

I sighed and opened my locker, grabbing a few things from it and following Kenny down the hall. Usually he and I split up in the morning and I just did my own thing.. But I kind of wanted some company today, at least until I knew how things would play out. I knew that at least Kenny would have my back if anyone said anything stupid. Walking down the hall, a few people glanced at me, a couple giggled and I got a few awkward stares. Other than that, things went smoothly as I slipped into my first hour class and waved off Kenny.

I turned and immediately caught the gaze of Bebe and Kyle, then I tried to avoid eye contact and pretend I didn't see them there. Looking back, that was awkward and suspicious, since I always greet them when I come to class. I faced the front of the class and counted down the seconds until one of them decided to say something to me. I knew it was going to happen, I could feel them watching me.

"Hey um, Stan, I just wanted to say I think it's really sweet what you said to Wendy." I heard Bebe say from behind me, sounding sympathetic, "She's been getting kind of out of hand lately.."

I ran a hand over my face and groaned a little, "Uh, thanks Bebe, but I really don't want to talk about it.. Like ever."

I was trying to sound nice, but I sounded more like a wounded animal than anything. At any rate, she didn't say anything else. Maybe since her best friend was okay with it, Wendy wouldn't think anything differently about it. No, I'm sure Bebe was just being nice. There's no way Wendy could be cool with anything I said on Friday night.

After an excruciatingly long class period, the bell rang and everyone spilled out into the hall. More people were looking at me than there were this morning, as if the word had spread or something, maybe I'm just being paranoid. I tried to hush my mind, give up some of the paranoia as I continued walking. I had my next hour with Kenny, so at least I had someone in my corner.

That's when I caught the scent of her perfume. I didn't look up, because I knew exactly where she was. She was walking behind me, I could even hear her boots as they hit the floor over and over again. I felt my heartbeat escalate, I could feel her eyes burning a hole in the back of my head. I started to feel my head grow more and more cloudy as the pain spread through my forehead and behind my eyes. I didn't realize it, but my head had started pounding, it was starting to become almost unbearable.

Before I knew it, I felt a hand on my wrist and I was being pulled into a side hallway, then I was drawn into a dark space and heard the door shut. My head in horrible pain, and feeling a little dizzy, I was disoriented. A light turned on in the small, dark space and I could see now. There stood Wendy, her hand on the light switch, inches away from me. She was wearing a beige dress with a lace underskirt and an off-white pullover. Her tan boots and lace socks as usual. Her stance was a little defensive, as if she was ready to stop me if I tried to leave. This particular janitor closet was small, probably four feet by five feet, and had shelves on two walls loaded with various items, mops and a bucket. We were close together.

We stood there in silence and stared at each other for a few seconds. I can only imagine the look on my face was confusion, mixed with an awkward shyness, as I felt my heart was about to beat out of my chest. My nervous thoughts were laughable, as now the only thing I could feel was the ring around my wrist where her hand was a few seconds earlier. Here I was in a closet with her, probably going to be confronted for my behavior, and all I could think about was how she just touched me, and I was pining over it.

"Don't talk, just listen, Stan." She said with an annoyed sigh, "You've made me the laughing stock of the school for at least the next week."

I stared at her, kind of apologetically, but also a little perplexed, as she had to have more to say than that. That was kind of obvious, and it didn't hold a request, so if she pulled me in here for that, I was kind of pointless. I don't know if she was trying to make this hard on me, or if she was just thinking of something to say, but I looked to my left, and then my right without moving my head. After a few more seconds, I felt like I had to respond, like she was waiting for something.

"I-.." I started.

"I said just listen." She said, frustrated.

I waited for her to continue, but she didn't. She just stood there, like she had something to say, but it wasn't happening. I started to grow impatient, as my heartbeat increased with every second of anticipation. I held my hands up a little and let out an exasperated sigh.

"To what?" I asked, gesturing to her, sounding irritated.

Realizing she hadn't been talking for at least two minutes, she sighed and softened her stance and looked more apologetic than angry. She waited a few seconds before sighing.

"Stan, why did you go and do that?" She asked, her hands on her head and her eyes closed, like she was trying to hold herself in. Like she just couldn't understand.

I hadn't really thought about it. I bit my lip a little while I decided whether to blame it on the booze, or just to be completely honest with her. Clearly nothing else I had done was working, since I hadn't said two words to her since we were ten, so it can't hurt to just come out and say what I've wanted to.

"Wendy, you're beautiful." I blurted out, and then felt really awkward, so I shook my head and grimaced, "I mean, yeah, but that's not.."

She squinted her eyes and held a hand up in confusion.

Jesus, this couldn't come out any worse, I can't even think, it's like I'm under a spell. I just couldn't stand her looking into my eyes like this.

"Wendy, I've always wanted to tell you what I told you on Friday." I said, closing my eyes to avoid the eye contact, "The alcohol just brought it out. I'm sorry."

Her face softened and she shook her head a little, "Stan, you don't love me."

Fucking ouch. I don't know what I expected. I didn't expect her to jump in my arms and kiss me, but I didn't expect her to say that either. Her saying that to me, after I had waited so long for her to notice my existence, was like being shot in the heart. I felt my mouth drop open a little and I looked down at my feet. I heard her continue, but I was still trying to wrap my mind around that one sentence. "Stan, you don't love me." What was that even supposed to mean? How could she possibly know that? I could feel my face getting hot just thinking about it.

"We kissed once. That's it. We haven't even talked." She said, looking more confused the more she talked.

"Okay, fine." I said to her, "I don't love you."

I said it like I was trowing my hands up at her, and I said it so she knew I was being argumentative. I said it, like I was giving up on her. I don't know where it came from, or where I got the courage to even say something like that, but I know I didn't mean it. Hearing her condescend to me like that just annoyed me, and I wanted to say something to make her question, even a little, whether she might be wrong or not.  
As I turned to walk out of the closet, I stopped myself and I turned back to her once more.

"You know, at least I only had to watch you walk away from me once while everyone laughed. This time you had the decency to take me in a closet before you fucked me up."

 _In my head I could hear the squeal of the swings._

I walked out on her and shut the closet door behind me, leaving her there. As I walked away, I could feel hot tears stinging my face. If she knew how long I waited just for her to talk to me, maybe she would have had more tact in what she said. I keep telling myself there's no way she could know how I feel, but it still doesn't take away from the sting I had in my chest.

All this time, I hoped maybe she might have held onto some of the feelings we shared together, but I guess I was the only one. I was the only one who remembered it enough to care, anyway. I spent all this time seeing her as some holy grail. I was wrong.


	4. Old Shacks, Low Racks

When Wendy was little, she didn't live with her grandparents like she does now. She used to come to school in ruffed up clothing, sometimes she even came without a coat in the dead of winter. At that time, she lived down the street from me, and my mother and father would stare out the window, drawn to the yelling and screaming that came from her single-story home a few houses down. Back then, I didn't really understand what was going on. Before long, when I was about thirteen, after we had stopped talking, her parents were incarcerated and she was sent to live with her grandmother across town. I never really did know exactly what happened, I don't think anyone really does, and that's something locked inside her mind behind a door I always wanted to open. No one had lived in her old house since she moved out, it was full of wreckage and waste, and it was condemned.

Looking out the window, I could see it in the dim streetlights. The siding was a dark gray, and it was broken in places. The roof was beginning to cave in,and the front door and windows are long boarded up. The lawn was overgrown, but not too badly, because the town doesn't let it get too out of hand. Weeds littered the driveway that was once entirely white rock, and grass grew in patches over it. I remember when I was eight, Wendy and I would sit out in her driveway and look for the "prettiest" rock. While most of them were an equally mundane white compared to the others, every now and then, you would find one that was different. If I was lucky enough to find the "prettiest" rock of the day, I always gave it to Wendy.

I let out a sigh and turned back to my bedroom. This time of night I always felt lonely. My sister and I talk more now since we got older, but she was still a bitch. Less of one, but nevertheless, a bitch. I really didn't talk to my parents, since they were always on about things I didn't care for, but my relationship with them was okay. However, at one in the morning, they're fast asleep. That leaves me up in the attic by myself unless I get tired enough to fall asleep, which was impossible some nights.

I ruffled my hair and flopped down on my bed. I let a deep sigh into my mattress before turning over and realizing my phone was blinking.

 _Kenny: Hey dude. I'm at Craig's having another party. Wendy's freaking out._

I furrowed my eyebrows in curiosity and debated with myself on whether to respond or not.

 _Me: Why?_

 _Kenny: I don't know, Craig said he made a move on her and she freaked._

I sighed and dialed Kenny's number. I may not be cool with Wendy blowing me off and treating me like shit, but I couldn't deny that I was still madly in love with her. It rang a few times and I heard a click, followed by a mesh of voices.

"Hello? Stan?" Kenny shouted into the phone, trying to drown out the voices.

I flinched at the noise, but it started to die down, so I assumed he was going somewhere more quiet.

"Hello?" He repeated.

"Hey, what do you mean she's freaking out?" I asked, feeling myself become more anxious.

"I don't know, man. She's really wasted and she was dancing, then all of a sudden she just let out this awful scream. I looked over and Craig had his hands up and looked as freaked out as she did."

"Where is she now?" I asked, gathering my jacket and slipping on my shoes.

"She's in the bathroom, Bebe said she won't come out. I'm outside with her and Kyle right now and everyone is still at the party." He said.

I hung up the phone before heading out the door of my bedroom. I had to sneak down the stairs, trying not to wake my parents.

Since Craig and Clyde only lived a few blocks from me, walking wasn't a problem. I wasn't sure what my game plan was once I got there, I wasn't even sure what the situation really was. All I knew was that if Wendy was uncomfortable, I didn't like it, and there had to be something I could do. In my head, I knew all of this could go horribly wrong, but the majority of me felt it was something I had to do.

I walked past Clyde's house and into Craig's yard, spotting Bebe and Kyle. They were just relaxing, drinks in hand, but Bebe looked a little worried. Kyle waved as he saw me walking up, and I waved back, looking in through the window at the others partying in his living room.

"Oh, hey Stan." Bebe said with a sigh, "Did you come to see Wendy?"

I nodded and put a hand on the back of my neck, "Yeah, if she's willing to talk to me, maybe I can help her calm down."

Bebe and Kyle looked at each other and shrugged.

"It's worth a shot, I guess." Kyle said, "She's in his bathroom."

I looked around, "Is there a window to it out here somewhere?"

Bebe pondered and looked back at Craig's house, "Yeah, it should probably be somewhere in the back of his house."

I nodded and started walking through his side yard. I looked in on everyone partying through a side window for a second. I walked a few more steps and met another window, leading into a dim hallway where no one seemed to be. However, I managed to spot the silhouette of what looked like two people making out. On closer inspection, I realized the one with their back to me was Kenny, and whoever he was making out with was shielded beneath him. I felt a little creepy watching, but my curiosity lead me to continue, waiting to see who the other person was. It started to get a little heated, and Kenny took the other person by the shoulders, and pushed him up against the adjacent wall to his left and I could finally see his face.

I felt the shock roll off my lips in form of a name, "B-Butters..?!"

I stood there with my mouth agape for literally minutes as I watched them having a war of tongue and nearly wrestling each other to the floor. Butters was an inch taller than me with short, spiked blonde hair, and since grade school, had started wearing tight jeans and black and gray band-T's. I finally turned away to blink my eyes, as they were getting sore from staring for so long. I rubbed them and looked back, just to be sure I was correct. Yup. There they were, now f-fondling.. Erm..

I looked away and took a few steps past the window so they wouldn't see me and tried to collect myself. I closed my eyes shut hard and laughed a little to myself at the situation.

I covered my mouth and let out a few more quiet, nervous giggles, "Ewwwh."

I continued walking with an awkward look on my face, and then turned the corner into Craig's back yard. I could see three windows, one with the lights off, one I could see was to the kitchen, and the last one was lit, but there was a curtain covering it so I couldn't see in. I walked up to the curtained window and tried to see if I could make out any shapes. I could see it was the bathroom, and I could see someone was sitting on the sink. I gathered myself a little, and knocked on the window, earning a jump from the figure on the counter.

I watched as the person I assumed was Wendy crept closer to the window, with caution. The curtain was quickly pulled to the side, almost as if the person moving it were afraid. The face revealed was Wendy's, and as I suspected, she looked startled. Her eyes relaxed when she realized it was me, and she wiped her eyes. Until then, I hadn't realized she had been crying. She unlatched the lock on the window and opened it about an inch.

"Stan, what are you doing?" Her speech was still a little slurred.

"Well, I.." I started, then realized I didn't have a good reason to be coming to see her, "I have to use the bathroom, and you're in the only one. I thought I'd see how much longer you were going to be."

She gave me a confused look and opened the window all the way, bending out and looking to either side of the house.

"Just go outside?" She asked me, flippantly.

"Well that's pretty selfish, why don't you cry outside and I'll use the bathroom for what it's meant for?" I questioned in return, creating a fake argument.

She started to protest, but I lifted myself up into the window before she could say anything and climbed into the bathroom.

"Stan Marsh, are you fucking kidding me?" She asked, a hand on her forehead.

"No, Stan Marsh is not fucking kidding you." I said, leaning on the sink, "So why are you in here anyway?"

She looked at me for a few seconds and then let out a sigh.

"Well.." She hesitated, "Well, I just didn't feel comfortable.."

"Heard you freaked out on Craig." I said, looking around the bathroom.

"Yeah, I.." She still sounded a little unintelligible, "He said something that reminded me of dad.."

I looked up at her.

"What do you mean..?" I asked, feeling a rumble of unease ascend in my throat.

She mimicked her father's hushed voice, " _Come on, let me see. I promise it'll be great."_

Before I could respond, her eyes started to water and her face was red. Without her really putting it into context, I understood what she meant, even if it sickened me to the core of my being. I didn't realize it when I was a child, but now, I completely understood, and part of me felt foolish and uncomfortable for not knowing sooner. I felt anxious, so I stood up and leaned out the window for fresh air.

"Stan..?" I heard her pipe from behind me.

I turned back to her and took a sigh, ".. Yeah?"

She was leaning against the side of the bath tub and facing the cabinet below the sink. She looked awful, like she had been drunk and crying for hours. She was wearing a long, peach colored sweater, long enough that it was close enough to being a dress that all the had to wear to cover her legs were a pair of white leggings. Looking at her usually gave me a tingling feeling throughout my whole body, but tonight, it just made me sad. She looked up at me and I could see the tears in her eyes.

"When we were kids, did you know?" She asked, her blue eyes looking up at me.

I thought about my answer briefly. I thought maybe if I told her I knew, she would be more comfortable about telling me tonight when she sobers up. I figured it would be easier for her to handle this conversation later if she knew she wasn't giving me any new information. I thought that, but I'm no liar.

"No, I didn't know." I said, looking away from her, "Not until just now."

There was a long pause between us. I knew she was thinking hard about everything, especially now that she knew I knew nothing about her abuse when we were kids.

I could feel the longing in her voice when she said to me, "I wish you had."

I bit my lip to keep my composure and bent down to sit next to her. We sat there in silence for a long time, the only sound between us was the sound of her crying, which was killing me. I felt like I had to say something, maybe I could make her feel better.

"Do you remember when we used to spend hours in your driveway looking for the best rock?" I asked her, reaching out on a limb.

She wiped her face and sniffled a bit, "Yeah, I remember."

We both chuckled, "And I always used to give you the best one I could find."

We laughed a little.

"You were always so cute, even when you were mad." She laughed, causing me to blush a little.

"Cute?" I asked her, my smile gone, a look of shock replacing it.

She nodded, "Yeah, for sure."

I smiled a little and sighed. This is the kind of friendship I wished we could have. This is the Wendy I wanted to talk to.

"I can't believe you remember that stuff, Stan." She shook her head with a smile and wiped her eyes again.

"I could never forget." I said seriously, looking at her.

She looked back at me with what appeared to be slight guilt, but understanding. We sat there again for a long time, but eventually I figured we should get out of Craig's house. I stood up and offered my hand to her.

"Come on, I'll walk you home." I said, as she looked up to me.

She hesitated, "Ugh, I don't want to see Craig.. And I don't want Clyde to see you."

She had a good point. I looked at the window and back to her. We both nodded and she took my hand. I helped her out the window and into the cold, spring night.


	5. Something Old, Something Blue

We walked off of Craig's back porch, and out through his backyard gate. My heart was pounding as I watched her walk in front of me, silently swearing things never went this well for me before in my life. For the first time, the snow had almost melted completely, and new snow was beginning to fall from the sky like a glistening new melody playing on a far-away piano. I shut the gate behind us, and we walked through his neighbor's yard to get to the parallel street. The scent of wet soil was in the air, and the ground was damp and soft beneath my feet.

"Stan..?" Wendy asked from beside me, the first words spoken since our escape.

"Hm?" I replied, trying not to sound too eager.

She paused, and I was praying to the God I didn't believe in that she wasn't about to ask me to take her back to the party.

"I've never felt this alive." She said with a smile.

I didn't know what she meant. All the times she's partied, danced on counters, gone out with friends.. And taking a walk with me is what made her feel 'alive'? I swear she's lived more than most people I know that are our age. She had a million friends, a huge house, and she could do anything she wanted. I wanted to ask her what she meant, but I didn't want to pry. I felt like I was walking on eggshells, and that one mess-up was going to destroy this chance.

"You've always been alive, Wendy." I said back, looking at her.

She looked down at her feet, "But I haven't felt alive."

I sort of understood.. I think.

"I've felt dead for a long time." I could still hear the alcohol in her voice, "It's like I just found one of the missing pieces I've lost."

Hearing that hurt me. Not in an offended way, but in a way that I could relate, and I wished she hadn't been so broken and alone all of these years. I was enjoying my time with her, but I still had the feeling in the back of my mind that when the alcohol was gone, she would be too.

".. I'm sorry for embarrassing you at the party." I said, genuinely sorry.

I was sorry for her being embarrassed, not really for what I said. I felt bad that everyone else had to be there to hear it, though, and that I couldn't say it when I was sober.

"It's okay." She said, tears in her voice, "I don't think anyone else cared enough to stop me."

Bebe was right, Wendy did realize she was out of control. She just wanted someone to stop her. It's sad that it took so long for someone to do that, and it's sad that with how many people who act like her friends, it had to be me. I guess I was always the one to come to her rescue when we were kids. She was wiping tears from her eyes, but facing away from me and trying to conceal it.

"You have friends that care about you." I said, reassuring her.

"They just want a place to party.. Craig just wants to get in my pants." She shook her head, seeming disappointed.

"If you don't like the way he treats you, why don't you tell him that..?" I asked, still trying not to pry, but also to offer advice.

".. I don't know. I guess I put on a front so people will like me. Craig included." She replied quietly.

"There are people who will like you when you're not trying to be liked." I shrugged, acting like it was no big deal, but hoping she would take that advice seriously.

She looked at me and I blushed, but didn't look back at her.

"Stan..?" She asked, shaking her head.

"Yeah?" I replied.

"Why do you love me so much..?" She asked.

The forwardness of her question shocked me, and I inhaled swiftly, and felt red from my fingers. I actually started to shake a little.

"I.. I.." I stuttered, desperately trying to focus my mind to give her an answer.

"I'm sorry.. I.." She stammered back, realizing she had made things awkward.

"N-no. I want to tell you.. I just wasn't expecting you to ask." I said, not wanting her to withdraw from the conversation.

I took a few seconds to collect my mind.

"I love you because you're strong on your values, despite being unsure of yourself. You stand up for people, even when you're in doubt. You're gentle, and sweet and there are a million things about you that make you different. Like the fact that the only fruity drinks you like are peach-flavored. Or that your favorite color is pale yellow. Or that your favorite animal is the sea horse." I gestured to her bracelet.

She looked down at her wrist and blushed, ".. I don't know what to say, Stan.."

"You don't have to say anything." I told her, smiling, "It was enough for me that I got the chance to tell you."

She smiled for a moment, but stopped in her tracks as she looked behind me. I looked behind her and saw my house in the distance, and I knew exactly where we were standing. I stepped beside her and looked at her old, rundown house. Before I knew it, she was walking up the driveway. I watched her for a second, then followed. She peered in the front window, beside her was a sign that read "condemned". She didn't say anything, so I stood next to her and peered in with her.

It looked like all the trash had been removed, but the floor still had stains, and the walls were dingy. It was a tiny old shack, two-bedrooms, one bathroom. The kitchen was part of the living room.

"I can still remember everything." She said, looking away from the window.

I turned back toward the driveway and stood next to her, "Those are just memories now, you know."

She nodded.

".. But.. You can tell me if you want." I sighed and sat on the front step.

She sat next to me and we both looked out at her lawn.

"Well. I remember I used to sit in the hallway and wait for you to call." She smiled.

I smiled, glad that I could give her good memories to look back on.

"I remember when we were kids, you used to carry around this old, stuffed bear." I said, "It was the cutest thing."

"Mr. Snuffy." She laughed, "I still have him.."

We both laughed.

"You know, when we had that fight, I cried for a week." She said, taking on a serious tone, "You were my only friend back then."

We were quiet for a minute. Almost as if we were having a moment of silence for the past.

I put my hand on her shoulder, and pulled her close to me. She leaned her head on me. I was holding my breath the entire time, thinking it might stop the nervous, sick feeling in my stomach.

"I've always been close, if you ever really needed someone." I said, looking down at her.

"Yeah.. But it always felt like you were a thousand miles away. You.. Reminded me of this place. And my father."

I hated that I reminded her of that.

"He's such a bastard." She said, shaking her head, "He would use you as a bargaining tool."  
".. What do you mean..?" I asked, dreading the answer.

"Sometimes, if I put up a fight, he would tell me I couldn't see you anymore." She said, "Or he'd use you as a reason to punish me. Telling me I was bad for being around a boy."

I wanted to vomit.

"He would sneak into my room, late at night."

I wanted to vomit.

"He would only be wearing a robe."

I wanted to vomit.

"He used to tell me to be quiet, and he'd let me see you."

I- I-

I started sobbing, but I was trying desperately and painfully to keep my chest from moving so that she wouldn't notice. My eyes fluttered as tears rolled down my face, and my chest burned from holding my breath.

"I guess that's part of the reason I didn't want to be friends with you. He wouldn't be able to hold you against me. He couldn't take you away, if you weren't around. But after you were gone, he just stopped bargaining. He got meaner. Rougher." She said, I held her tightly, "I wanted so badly to be saved by someone."

She held up her wrist and played with her charm bracelet, nervously.

".. I'm sorry I wasn't there for you." I said, the stinging in my chest finally subsiding.

"I don't blame you at all." She said with a sigh.

For the first time, ever, I held her for more than a hug goodbye. I was used to feeling small, but she was so tiny. She wasn't wearing a coat, I realized. I took off my jacket and put it over her shoulders, then put my arm around her again. I was only in a t-shirt now, but I didn't feel cold. The only sensation I felt was happy, to be holding her. Even if it's just this one time. Even if she ignores me tomorrow at school.

"Stan?" She asked quietly.

"Hm..?" I answered.

".. I should probably get home." She said, but it didn't sound like what she was going to say.

I nodded and we both stood, resuming our walk back to her house.

* * *

When I got back home, my room felt different. Like I hadn't been there for ages, when it had really only been about five hours. Wendy lived across town, so we continued talking for about forty minutes before we reached her house. Then I walked forty minutes home, without a jacket. I didn't mind though, I was so deep in thought I nearly walked right past my house. I sat on my bed, dreading school the next day. I wondered if she was going to ignore me or not. Or if she would even remember the night. I couldn't gauge how drunk she was, but she wasn't stumbling around or anything, so I guessed she had only been fairly tipsy. I had only been drunk once, and I blacked out that night, so I didn't know anything about drinking or being drunk, for the most part. It was about three in the morning, so I knew I needed to sleep before school.

I slept that night, without dreams, without laying awake and replaying things from the past in my mind.

 **Author's note: I'm back. Hope you enjoyed. Leave a comment, if you can. I'll be sure to update.**


	6. Pressure

Did you ever notice the way that tree branches look like fingertips, reaching toward the sky? Like a solemn plea.

I always felt like the trees held the same spirit as a human. Like we're all connected to nature on a molecular level, and we're essentially made from the same thing. We are all living. We all use energy. I guess it's always been my personal belief that what others feel as "God" is actually our connection to other things through energy. Well, that, and the human fear of death. But I do believe you ca feel your connection through other things, mostly on a scientific basis. I've always loved nature.

I looked up at the trees and enjoyed my walk to school, although nervous about what the day would bring. This was the first time in a long time that I enjoyed my walk there, instead of it just being part of the mission. I felt at ease, like I had closure, if nothing else. A lot of my questions had been answered, and I got to say a lot of words I never thought I would get the chance to say. It felt like keeping a promise.

I could see the school, and my classmates were walking up the hill to it. I felt my heartbeat accelerate a bit, knowing I would soon see Wendy.. And maybe talk to her. I hoped she at least remembered the other night. I knew that she probably would, since she wasn't incredibly drunk, but I still had doubt in my mind. Soon, I was standing a few feet from the door, and I took a deep breath.

"Hey Bilbo." I heard Kenny say, as he leaned on me with his elbow resting on my head.

I let out a disgruntled sigh, "Hey Ken-"

I then remembered the ravenous make out session I had witnessed between he and a very little, blonde boy last night. I smiled mischievously.

"Hey Ken." I said, turning to him and giving him a smirk, then turning back toward the door.

"Oh, nuh-uh, wait. What was that look." He asked, catching my smile and seeming slightly uncomfortable.

I shrugged.

"Don't give me that shit, Marsh. I don't like that shit-eating grin you just gave me." He said, turning me back toward him.

"Nothing.." I said, with a short chuckle, "I just didn't know you were into blondes."

"What?" Kenny asked, "What do you mean?"

I shook my head and shrugged, a grin still on my face, "Well, nothing. I just saw you hooking up with someone at the party last night."

He went silent for a second, then quietly asked, "You.. Saw..?"

"Yeeahhh, but it's no big deal." I said, blowing him off because I knew it would bother him.

"Fuck you, Stan. Tell me what you saw." He said seriously.

"I'm the only person who knows, so don't worry about it. I won't mention it to anyone. But you already know what I saw." I said, patting him on the shoulder.

He sighed, "I was really drunk."

"Yeah, most of us don't turn homosexual when drunk." I said, "I was black-out drunk and all I could think about was Wendy."

"I'm not gay." He said matter-of-fact-ly, "I'm am bi, though."

"Ah, thank you for making that distinction." I said, rolling my eyes, "Now, if you're done bothering me, I'm going inside-"

"Wait, why were you at the party? I didn't see you there." He said, grabbing my shoulder.

"I was there to see Wendy." I replied.

"Dude, again? You should really let that go." He said with a sigh.

As if on queue, Wendy walked by us to go into the school.. Wearing my jacket.

"Hey Stan." She waved with a smile, walking through the doors.

I waved back and stood there with Kenny as he gawked at her and gave me a wild-eyed look as he pointed at her.

"That's your-" He started.

"Yeah." I said.

"She just waved at-" He began again.

"Yeah." I said again.

Instead of waiting for him to ask me more questions, I walked through the doors, to my locker, and got my books for first period. I glanced at her from my locker door, and for the first time in school, she was already looking at me. My heart skipped a beat. I didn't turn back right away. We looked at each other for a good three seconds before Bebe walked up to her and broke our staring contest. I turned back to my locker and continued getting my books. Afterward I shut my locker and waved as I walked past her and Bebe, then continued onto my first hour. As I sat, waiting for first period to start, I realized I was early for once. No one else was in here yet.

I twittled with my pencil for a few moments before a familiar face walked through the door.

Craig.

He was smiling and laughing with Cartman behind him until he made eye contact with me. His face quickly dropped and I braced myself for an unpleasant conversation.

"What's up, Marsh?" He asked, tauntingly, "Other than Wendy's legs, for you."

I replied angrily, "It's not like that, and don't talk about her that way."

I stood up from my desk and realized he towered over me by about four inches.

"Yeah? Could have fooled me, since she's wearing your fucking jacket." He yelled, throwing his hands up.

A couple of girls from the hallways were peeking their head in the door.

"What? You don't give a shit what Wendy wants? You only care about yourself?" I yelled back, my posture getting defensive.

He took me by the shirt collar and said calmly, "She wanted me until you came along."

"Did she tell you that?" I took his hands and forcefully threw them away from my collar, "Or did you just assume that."

We stared daggers at each other, hands balled into fists. Multiple students from first hour were now in the room, since the bell was about to ring.

Ms. Homesweet walked through the door and stopped in her tracks, assessing the situation, "Boys? What's going on here?"

Craig held eye contact with me as he walked to his desk in the back of the room, "Nothing."

The tension could still be felt as I took a seat. Everyone slowly made their way to their desks and class began, but everyone was still exchanging glances and gossip almost the entire period. Meanwhile, I was finding it incredibly hard to concentrate. The notes were up on the board for us to copy, but my mind kept wandering.

After first period, I made a conscious effort to pack my things up slowly, to avoid being close to Craig on the way out. I would stand up for Wendy if things came down to it, but I wasn't going out of my way to cause problems with Craig, or Clyde, for that matter. I knew it was coming, and that there's no way he wouldn't get involved, I was just buying myself time until then. No one is really in a hurry to get their ass kicked.

I got up from my desk and sighed, slinging my backpack over my shoulder.

"Hey, Stan." I heard a familiar voice say from the door.

I turned to see Wendy, all smiles, in the doorway.

"Oh, hey!" I said back, suddenly feeling nervous.

I could feel my breath staggering. I started walking toward her and the closer I got, the less real it began to feel. We left the classroom and walked to second period together. Second was our elective, so it was just a fun cooking class. We weren't partners, since we chose our partners at the beginning of the year. Wendy had chosen Butters, since the only other girl in the class was Bebe, and she and Kyle were partners. My partner was Kenny, and he pretty much did nothing. I kind of preferred that, since he usually just fucks things up. Wendy and I exchanged passing glances throughout the class.. It seemed a lot more meaningful than it really was.

After the school day, and walking to two of three classes with Wendy, we had agreed to meet by the school doors and hang out after school. At this point, I still wasn't convinced that she and I had a dating relationship. Despite her wearing my jacket and spending every free second of the school day with me, she really hadn't expressed being romantic, so I wasn't sure. Although I would have been more than happy with a new friendship.

I walked out of my sixth hour class and sighed, trying to relax myself. I walked up the hallway to the entrance of the school and waited for her by the lockers, cellphone in hand. A lot of people came and went, but I didn't see Wendy anywhere. I began to doubt that she was coming, until I heard arguing in the distance.

"Wendy, you want me." I heard Craig say, "You do. You don't want that guy."

"This isn't up for debate, Craig. I told you, I'm just not into you like that." She retorted, I heard her messing with the lock on her locker.

"Oh? What about the party at your house? You were all over me." He questioned.

"I was drunk, and you initiated that." She said with a sigh, "Kind of messed up, actually. Stay away from me when I'm drunk. No, you know what? Just stay away from me."

"You're a bitch, Wendy." I heard him say, "I _will_ stay away from you."

I heard him walking the opposite way up the lockers toward the back exist to our school, and I surfaced from the bench I was sitting on and headed in her direction.

".. Hey Wendy." I said with a wave.

"Hey! Sorry if you heard any of that.. Ugh." She said, rolling her eyes, "He didn't take the news well last night, and he's still not taking it well today."

"Yeah, I can see that. We almost got in a fight this morning." I said, shaking my head.

Wendy stopped putting her books away and looked at me, "Wait, what?"

"I thought you would hear about it, people were looking in from the hallway when it happened." I explained, "It was nothing. Just a few words."

She shut her locker with a slam, "God, it's like he thinks he owns me or something."

I shuffled my feet and looked at the ground, "Well even if he thinks that, he doesn't. No one does."

She leaned against the lockers next to me, her arm against mine, "What do you want to do today?"

I hadn't thought that far ahead, honestly. Being fifteen, we had to choose something withing walking distance. I could bring her back to my house, but I didn't clean my room, and I felt like that would be too forward. We could go to Frostie's and get ice cream, but that's cliche and I'm sure we've both been there a million times. I guessed that going to my house was probably the better idea. I lived close to the school and my parents weren't home, anyway.

"Wanna come over to my place and watch a movie?" I asked, "My room's a little messy, but nothing too awful."

"Yeah, that sounds nice. It's rare I do anything outside of a party anymore," She said with a chuckle, "I'm just tired of it."

We started on our way to my house, and it was pretty quiet this time. I think we both had more courage when she had been drinking, so neither of us could use that as a crutch this time. I really wanted to be less nervous, and I figured the best way to do that would be to just go for it.

I took a deep breath, ".. Can I hold your hand?"

Wendy smiled and held out her hand, "Yes, I'd like that."

To be honest, I hadn't had a girlfriend since we "dated" back in third grade. I had that one kiss, and we held hands a few times back then, but.. That's pretty much it. I guess that's somewhat normal for a fifteen-year-old, but in a small town like this, most of our other classmates were over-sexualized. I felt a little embarrassed at how much of a dork I probably seemed, asking to hold her hand. I felt my face getting hotter the more I thought about it, so I figured I should start talking.

"So um," I cleared my throat, "What do you like to do? Like, hobbies, I mean."

She lit up a bit and replied, "I love to paint."

"What kind of things do you paint? Do you have any picture on your phone?" I asked, noticing how much her eyes lit up.

"Yeah! Definitely." She replied.

She took her phone out of her pocket and started flipping through it. After finding what she was looking for, she showed me a picture she painted that was.. Extremely high quality. It was of a tree from the bottom, and it was incredible.

"Wow Wendy, that's amazing. How long did it take you to paint that?" I asked, completely surprised.

"Only about three weeks, it's one of my favorites." She replied, tucking her phone away.

"Only?" I asked, dumbfounded.

"Mhm." She nodded.

We had reached my driveway, and suddenly I felt nervous. I didn't stall, though. She stood next to me as I unlocked my front door, and we walked in.

 **Author's note: Next chapter up shortly.**


	7. Sanctuaries Aflame

**Author's note: I changed the rating on this story to mature, because it will have sexual scenes that I consider fit for an adult audience. I'm posting it here, in case not everyone saw the rating change.**

"Sorry it's a little messy." I said, kicking my mom's shoes out of the way.

"Are you kidding? Your house is so nice." She said, looking up at our chandelier.

"It's nothing compared to your house." I said, kicking my shoes off next to the door.

"My house just feels so.. Not lived in. It's like a picture from a catalog." She responded, kicking her shoes off next to mine.

I guess I agreed with her on that, her house didn't look very comfortable. All white carpet, all white walls, fancy granite fixtures. It all seemed really superficial, but empty. I get why she wouldn't really care for the place, especially since no one else seemed to be there with her most of the time. The thought of being alone in a place like that made me cringe. Maybe that's why she was always hosting parties, or at least part of the reason. She seemed so fascinated with my house. She was running her hands up the mahogany wood railing that lead upstairs.

"Stan, your house is really nice. I don't remember it being this nice when we were kids." She said, looking in the kitchen.

"Yeah, my dad got a fancy new job as manager a few years back and told my mom to do whatever she wanted with the place." I explained, walking over to the stairs.

"Your mom has really good taste." Wendy said, her eyes glossy as she looked out into my living room, "Where's your room?"

"Oh, it's upstairs, but it's not nearly as nice as it is down here." I stated, nervously.

"That's okay, I.. I just want to get cozy." She said with a blush.

"Uh.. O-oh, okay." I stammered.

I got so much more flustered after she said that, almost panicked. I actually started to feel dizzy as we walked up the stairs. We got to my door and I pulled out my key to unlock it.

"You keep your door locked?" She asked, curiously.

"Oh, yeah, I guess I have a thing about security." I explained, realizing it probably seemed kind of odd.

She nodded and we stepped inside. I locked the door behind us. My room wasn't super big, and it was kind of dark. I had a 32" flat-screen and a few different consoles, as well as a laptop over on my dresser. It looked well lived in, and cozy. I had half a dozen blankets and pillows on my bed, so it always looked fluffy and ready to sleep in. My walls held posters of obscure bands I enjoyed, that no one else really knew about. My blankets were mostly blue and gray, just general "guy sheets". I had wood flooring, but I had a gray carpet with a black and dark-gray modern design on it. Some clothes littered my room, and my bed wasn't made, but I was okay with that.

"Wow Stan, your room looks so soft." She said, taking a seat on my bed and looking up at me with big eyes, "So what are we watching?"

Again, Mr. Plans Ahead didn't really consider that. I had so many movies, and I'd seen them all, so I wouldn't be able to decide.

"They're all on that bookshelf if you want to pick one." I said, sitting down next to her.

"Hm." She hummed, looking them over.

I couldn't help but notice how beautiful she looked when she furrowed her brows and concentrated. It was strange to me that for the first time I was so accustomed to her perfume that I couldn't actively smell it anymore. I hadn't been this close to her for an extended period of time in years. She was wearing a lilac sweater with white lace under it, and a pair of jeans that hugged her body like I wished I could. She always had a knack for fashion.. Or maybe it's just that everything looked great on her. Either way, she always looked amazing.

"This one looks nice." She said, pulling it off the shelf.

It was one of the two romance movies I owned. Was she trying to set a mood? As nice as that sounded, I was mentally unprepared if that's what her plan was.

"Oh, Tides Keep, that's one of few romance movies I like." I said, opening the box and putting it in my console.

I slid my hoodie up over my head and climbed further onto my bed, grabbing one of my blankets and finding a comfortable place. I had distanced myself from her slightly, so I didn't look too forward. That way if she wanted to get close, she wouldn't feel pressured. To my surprise, she slid my jacket off and sat right next to me, nearly touching me.

"So um. Have you seen this one before?" I asked, nervously fiddling with my blanket.

"No, I haven't." She said, leaning her head on my shoulder.

Now I knew what she was going for, and that this was _definitely_ a romantic relationship. I had no idea how to actually act in a romantic relationship, and I felt like I wanted to puke. It was a mixture of excitement and fright. I wanted to get close to her, but my body's natural response was to start shaking and accelerate my breathing. I felt like a child, like I had no idea what to do next. I hadn't been this close to her in years, and she seems so unfazed by it.

"Stan, are you okay? You're shaking.." She asked, lifting her head from my shoulder and looking at me.

"I-I'm sorry. I just.. Have never been this close to a girl before." I bit my lip, coyly.

She looked surprised, "You haven't..?"

I was really reluctant to talk to my new kind-of girlfriend about my inexperience. I wanted to reassure her that I wanted to be close to her, and I didn't want my inexperience to discourage her. At the same time, I was so nervous I could barely find the words to explain that. The closest I had ever been to a girl was when she and I kissed a few times back in third grade. It was so long ago, it feels like another lifetime, really.

"Well, no. The last girlfriend I had was you.." I said, sliding my hands down my face, slowly.

"Oh!" She said, scooting back from me in surprise.

"But, but it's not that I don't like it. I love being close to you." I said, reassuring her.

She wrapped her arms around me in a hug, "I just didn't know that about you."

I basically had just divulged the fact that I'm a virgin to her, but in more words.. And she hugged me. I was confused by her response, and I wanted to know what she was thinking.

"I hope that doesn't bother you." I said, putting an arm around her waist, shyly.

"Oh, not at all.. It's actually really sweet." She said, he face nearing mine, "I think you're the only guy in town that isn't all about sex."

I looked down at the blanket and blushed, "I didn't think that was a good thing."

"It's really sweet." She reassured me, leaning her head on mine, "So.. You've only ever kissed me..?"

I nodded.

My mind was racing at this point, and neither of us were watching the movie. My brain was telling me this was going places too quickly, but every other inch of my soul was begging for it. My heart, soul and body were wanting to be closer to her. It's like they were all conspiring against my brain and taking over. Before I knew it, she had her hand under my chin, and her lips were pressed against mine.

It was like a silent prayer. I could hear every lonely night I spent crying over her in the distance. The sickening silence the night used to bring was crawling on my spine, and it was like I was falling. Like rainwater, sliding down a leaf in the garden. Something in me was finally at peace, as I put my hand behind her head and deepened our kiss. It was like my body met with hers, and all my questions were somehow answered.

I broke the kiss, and we looked into each other's eyes, and then I realized a tear had made it's way down my cheek.

Instead of mentioning it, she wiped it away, and pulled my face back toward hers. Our lips met again, but this time, it was like fire. Like a flame in an open field beneath a dusk sky. Her lips were soft, and I could taste her lip gloss on my tongue, and although the movie played on, all I could hear was the sound of our lips meeting. My soul begged to find hers.

The kiss ended again, and I pressed my forehead to hers, keeping my eyes closed.

"Stan.." She whispered to me, "I-I.."

I pressed my lips to hers again, pushing her back onto my bed, gently. For the first time, I felt so small in her arms. Like kids, kissing for the first time, out in the snow. My lips trembled as I kissed her, thinking about warming her hands on a cold winter day. I exhaled a slight, almost silent moan into her mouth, as I remembered sitting in her driveway with her, looking at rocks. My hand slid up her waist as I bit her lip gently and pulled it, thinking about seeing her in the hallway at school and longing for her silently. I ended the kiss yet again, and rested my cheek on hers, hugging her tightly.

She was silent for a second as I rested atop her, like a shield.

She exhaled a quiet sob, and said to me, "I've never been kissed that way before in my life."

I tightened my hold on her, and felt her press her lips to my neck. A shiver came over me, and my jaw trembled.

"Wendy.. I don't want this to go too fast." I whispered, kissing her cheek gently.

She was quiet for a moment, then she kissed my neck again, and I gasped, biting my lip.

"Wendy.." I said, almost as a plea, "I- I.."

She kissed my neck again, biting me gently. I couldn't help myself. I pressed my groin against her in response, my body losing control in the ecstasy. I could barely keep my eyes from rolling back, and my chest was aching. My thrust into her earned a surprised moan from her, and I could feel myself shaking at her response. My eyes were tearing up at the sensation of my solid length against her thigh, and I felt weak. My mind wanted so badly to stop and watch the movie, but everything else inside me was screaming for her.

"You're shaking.." She sad in a whisper, as she wrapped her arms around me, kissing up my jawline.

"I.." I said softly, "I-.. I can't think.."

She lifted her leg slightly, putting more pressure on my groin, and I let out a soft moan. What was she doing to me..? It's like in a second, I threw away my inhibitions. My morals. My everything was just laying here, pressing against her. Feeling her energy beneath me. I wanted so badly to know her soul. All I could think about was the charm bracelet that I could hear dangling next to my ear.

"W-Wendy..?" I whispered as she pulled her lips away from my neck.

"Yes?" She asked, her breathing heavy.

"I- I.." I stuttered, shakily, "I put that sea horse pendant in your locker.. In sixth grade."

She pulled away from me and looked me in the eyes.

"You..?" She asked, her eyes wide, and tears filling them, "I love that charm."

She grabbed her bracelet with her other hand and her lips shook.

".. I have loved you forever." I said, looking her in the eyes.

The intensity of our gaze was enough to light a chapel aflame. Like our sanctuaries had been burnt to the ground, and suddenly we were naked and vulnerable. She let out a sob and wrapped her arms around my shoulders in a tight hug. The sexual tension had subsided, and I heard thunder roll over my house, and rain began tapping at my window. It's like God had reluctantly given us his his imprimatur, and blessed us with this moment.

She pulled back from me, and kissed me on the cheek.

"Stan.. You're the sweetest person I've ever known in my life." She said, looking me in the eyes.

This is the first moment I've ever shared with someone that was entirely raw in emotion. It was like meeting her for the first time. I had successfully instilled intimate feelings in her, instead of just sexual urges. I feel like somewhere along the way, she lost the intimacy. Like it was.. Stolen from her. Now every time a man touched her, she only felt the sexual desire, and none of the affection. I wanted to show her what being loved felt like, in all manners of the word. In all aspects of love.. But right now, I just wanted to hold her. So I did.

I rolled over and offered my arms to her. She lay her head on my chest and I restarted the movie. She felt so.. Warm. And calm.

"I could stay here like this forever." She whispered, as I held her close.

I kissed her on the head.

I knew this had to last forever.


End file.
